Between the Sheets
by Little-Miss-Rachel
Summary: She had to end it. There was supposed to be no strings attached, but her heart strings were pulled every time he left.
1. It's All Over

_Between The Sheets_

**Note:** I have a new favorite song, and I've decided that since I've taken down a few stories to be revamped I'll be generous and put up a new one. It won't be very long, I don't think. Maybe ten chapters at the most. And I'll do a cheap plug for my favorite band Monty Are I. Check them out! The song is called "Between The Sheets", hence the name of the story… And Katy, you're right. I couldn't resist the pairing. LOL.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story. Yup, don't own them. If I did, Cena would be gone FOREVER and Triple H would be ruler of the WWE. LOL. Ooh and I don't own the title. The AMAZING, TALENTED, COOL Monty Are I own it.

**Chapter One: **It's All Over

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"I don't understand you!" Lilian Garcia screamed over the raging music inside of the hip hop club they were in. Trish Stratus sat opposite of the Latina in the booth, her head resting in the palm of her hand with a bored expression on her face.

"This is so boring, though," Trish mumbled, knowing Lilian wouldn't be able to hear her anyway. She took another long drink of her Kamikaze in front of her. The club, pulsing with the rap music and dancing people, was too boring for her.

"LET'S DANCE!" Lilian yelled at her. Trish rolled her hazel eyes. She didn't _want _to dance. She wanted to go back to the hotel. She wanted to go lie down and sleep. They went to clubs almost every night. What made this one so different?

"I'm leaving!" Trish called out when the music was slowly dying down. Lilian's mouth dropped open in protest but she decided to leave it alone. Trish stood and grabbed her purse, throwing it up onto her shoulder. She slammed a ten dollar bill onto the table and walked off.

She weaved through the grinding crowd towards the entrance where scantily clad women stood to escort people in. The lights flashed different colors around her, the strippers danced faster to the upbeat song, and Trish almost got caught up in the moment by swiveling her hips. But she stopped. She didn't want to be here.

She was almost to the entrance when something caught her eye. Walking in, with his best friends, was _him_. His eyes gleamed in the strobe lights when two brunettes grabbed his arms. Trish stopped dead in her tracks and watched him pass her with the confidence of a king. Only then did he turn his head and meet her eyes. She watched him walk towards the VIP section with Paul Lévesque, Dave Batista, John Cena, and Adam Copeland.

She almost turned and walked after him but she told herself no. They weren't supposed to interfere with each other's lives. They talked occasionally, but they were far from friends. Trish walked out of the club, wondering if he was going to come tonight at all since she knew he'd be fucking a ring rat before the night was over.

_No one's as good as me, though, _Trish thought with a smirk as she climbed inside of her car. She drove back to the hotel in silence, her mind clouded with the images of them together. She shook the thoughts from her head and got out of the car once it was parked. She walked inside the Marriott hotel with a little less confidence than before. She was tired and pretty pissed for no reason at all.

"Trish! Hey!" Torrie Wilson waved from the bar. Trish just waved back once seeing who she was with. She didn't want to go talk to Stacy Keibler. The prize of the company. The one who brought them so much fame from her stupid _Dancing With the Stars_ gig.

_Star my ass. She's a two cent hooker, _Trish thought venomously. She continued to walk despite Torrie calling her to come back and sit with them. Trish entered the empty elevator and sighed loudly.

Why did she have to be so negative? She tried to like everyone. She really did. But there was something about most of the wrestlers and divas backstage that she couldn't stand. Some were obnoxious like John Cena, few were bitchy like Candice Michelle and Stacy Keibler, and most were hateful like Chris Masters and Glenn Jacobs. She couldn't help that they were almost always cranky because they had just gotten off the road. It wasn't her fault that they ran out of gas and had to call for a tow truck. It definitely wasn't her fault that their flight got delayed. And yet they took out their aggressions on her.

Trish stepped out once on her floor and looked around. The hallway was empty. She slowly trudged down the carpeted corridor, her boots dragging slightly. She reached her room a few minutes with a pained expression on her face. When she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking there was a large bump under the carpet and she tripped. She had fallen, of course.

"Damn carpet," Trish cursed as she rubbed her now sore knee. She walked inside of her small hotel room and looked around resentfully. She hated staying in hotels. They were always uncomfortable, and her thoughts kept drifting back to what people really did in the rooms.

"Stop thinking about that," She chided herself as she stared at the bed. She got a sick feeling in her stomach. Suddenly she didn't want to go to sleep on that bed. She wanted to be at home in her own comfortable, fluffy bed with the down blanket.

Trish changed immediately. Her clothes were thrown precariously into her suitcase, not bothering to fold them like the rest of the clothes were. She pulled on a ribbed tank top and her Happy Bunny "Boys Suck" pajama pants before sitting on the small couch in the TV area. She flipped through the limited number of channels boredly.

After a while she threw the remote down onto the hard floor with a growl. There was nothing on. She looked around the small room for something to do. Anything to do. She didn't want to take a shower. She didn't want to go to sleep because she wasn't tired. And she sure as hell didn't want to go back to that club. After a few minutes of deliberating she decided to go down and grab some candy from the gift shop.

_Why they have a gift shop in a hotel is beyond me,_ Trish thought when she reached the little shop with no one in it. She walked inside, her fuzzy black slippers scratching against the barely carpeted floor. She picked up Skittles, Reese's, a Butterfinger, and a few packs of Trident Watermelon Twist gum. After paying for the hefty load of candy she walked out of the store. She tore open the skittles and dumped some into her hand.

"Trish!" She heard her name being called from the bar once again. She turned slightly to see Torrie yet again with Stacy Keibler sitting at the table closest to the door. Trish groaned outwardly but walked over when she waved.

"Hey, Torrie," She acknowledged. Wanting to show how mean she could be, Trish ignored Stacy completely, "How are you, Torrie?" She emphasized her name.

"I'm good! Stacy's great too," She offered her skinny friend a smile. Stacy glared at Torrie then looked to Trish with a deep resentment in her eyes.

"Trish," She hissed. Trish held in the smart remark begging to escape her mouth and only nodded. Saying her name might poison her.

"So? Why don't you sit with us and have a drink," Torrie grinned happily. Trish knew she just wanted to talk since they were friends but she didn't want to sit and be civilized with Stacy.

"Er… I was going to go and watch a movie so no thanks," Trish said politely. Torrie pouted.

"Aww, just one drink!" She begged. Trish shook her head and wrenched her arm from the Playboy models grip.

"Not tonight, Tor," She said forcefully. She walked away from the other two blondes with a small smirk on her face.

She made it back to her room quickly. There was something about those empty hallways that made her paranoid. It felt like someone was watching her all the time she was in the elevator and walking down the hallway to her room. But once inside she was safe. Or so she thought.

When she shut the door she was roughly thrown into the wall. Not expecting this she cried out in pain when the back of her head hit the cold wall. But once she felt a body pressed against her she knew who it was. The scent of his cologne invaded all of her senses, and she almost smiled. Almost.

Trish pushed him off of her and slammed him into the door. He picked her up and let her wrap her legs around his waist. After another push into the wall their lips met in a hungry kiss. She hadn't expected him to come so soon. She didn't expect him at all. Their tongues danced together as his large hands moved under her tank top. Trish broke their kiss and hissed when his hand moved over her stomach.

"Finished with your hooker for the night, Orton?" She asked him. Randy Orton half-smiled at her demanding question.

"Hell no," He answered huskily, referring to her. Trish glared daggers at him.

_Cocky son of a bitch!_ She yelled in her head. He began to kiss down her soft neck, nipping occasionally. Trish sighed loudly and tightened her legs. She felt him hard against her and bit down on her lip. She wanted this and yet she didn't. She hated him and yet she wanted him.

Trish unhooked her legs and they stumbled into the room, Randy's blue buttons up shirt falling to the floor after all the buttons were ripped out when she grasped the collar and tore it open. Randy pulled off her top expertly and they fell back onto the bed. His hands roamed her body while Trish was working on his belt buckle.

"Fuck," Randy muttered when his cell phone began to go off. Trish looked over at the vibrating phone and growled. She snatched it before he could and saw who it was. His whore. Stacy. He climbed off of the blonde and took the phone from her. Trish glared at him.

"Hello?" He said through clenched teeth. Trish watched him with a look of pure disgust on her face. Why did she do this with him? Why did she agree to start this affair with him? She hated him more than anyone in the locker room.

"I'll be back at the hotel in two hours. The boys and I are at a restaurant having a very late dinner," He lied smoothly. Trish rolled her eyes. _Late dinner is right_, she thought. She heard Stacy arguing on the other line and grinned. She remembered why she started this affair in the first place. To get back at Stacy for spreading a nasty rumor that she had fucked John Cena and Adam Copeland at the same time.

"Yeah, you too, bye," Randy hung up and turned to Trish who was propped up on both of her elbows. Trish surveyed him and raised one eyebrow. They'd never been interrupted before. It was weird to see him just standing there.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Trish asked bitterly. Randy glared down at her.

"I was about to ask you the same damn question," He growled back at her. Trish stood and shoved him into a chair on the opposite side of the room.

She kissed him roughly. She wanted it to bruise both of their lips. She wanted him to remember how much better she was than Stacy. She wanted him to have to hide it from Stacy though it'd be nearly impossible. Her tongue collided with his, and she was soon pulled onto his lap. She ground down onto him which earned a low groan from deep in Randy's throat.

"I so hate you," Trish gasped when he sucked at her neck. She felt him smirk against her skin but he said nothing.

Then their clothes were all discarded. She let him do what he wanted. She knew it was wrong. But this was what she wanted. She wanted him to fuck her without any strings attached. Except she felt her heart being tugged every time he left, and she didn't want that. So as she rode him she came to the conclusion that this would be the end. She didn't want it to be, but for her sake, she had to end it.

--

**Note:** My Randy and Trish muses want to kill me for not letting them fuck. They already have their pitchforks and torches... (sigh) Oh well! LOL. So, that's the first chapter. I actually kinda like it. So… reviews are appreciated, and I'd love to know what you think of it!

**R**achel


	2. Time of Dying

_Between the Sheets_

**Note: **Thanks so much for all of the reviews. They all made me smile. I actually like this fic which is kinda weird… Right? Because I, one half of the Queens of Fluff, never like my stories. But whatever, I'm just glad you all like it. Oh yes, and the chapter titles are almost all from Three Days Grace's new CD _One-X_ which I recommend to EVERYONE. Go and get the damn thing now, because it's freakin' awesome! Okay, no more cheap plugs for my favorite bands. I swear… LOL. :D

Disclaimer: Yup, still don't own 'em. You know what would happen if I did. LOL. I do want to own Randy, though… -sigh-

**Chapter Two:** Time of Dying

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Once again Trish was stuck at a club with her closest friends; and once again she was bored. The party life got old… Fast. She hated going to clubs. In the beginning they had all been different, had all been so fun. But after about the thousandth time they all seemed the same to her.

She sat at a round table with Lilian to her right and Amy Dumas to her left. They were both drunk. Very drunk. Trish groaned inwardly. She didn't want anyone to puke in her rental. She'd have to pay extra bucks for that.

"Triiiiiisssshhhh, let's dance!" Lilian giggled. The announcer was already on her feet though she was very unstable. She almost fell, but Trish was on her feet and holding her up.

"Let's go back to the hotel," Trish yelled in Lilian's ear. Lilian shook her head and stumbled to where Dave Batista was sitting with his group of friends. Trish watched her friend go, and wasn't surprised when Amy fell into Adam Copeland's lap a minute later.

Trish sat back down and sipped at her margarita. She watched her friends interact and flirt with their boyfriends who were surprisingly sober. Her eyes flicked to Paul Levesque who looked almost as bored and she was, and then she looked at Randy. Just like the night before he had two brunettes sitting on his lap. The sight made her want to puke.

The blonde Canadian kept staring at him, not taking her eyes off of him as she took another sip of her drink. His hands were under one brunette's shirt while his lips were attached to the other's neck. She almost spit out her drink. She wanted to tear her eyes away but she couldn't. There was something in her that wanted to watch him. Deep down she wanted to be those girls. Deep down she wanted him to be doing that to her.

"Damnit Trish, stop," She scolded herself. She hated how she was beginning to feel about the Legend Killer. She hated how every time he left her after he fucked her senseless she felt like her heart was breaking. She hated how she kept running back to him.

Randy must have noticed her staring because soon he was standing in front of her table with a smirk on his face. Trish snapped out of her daydream and raised her eyes slowly up to meet his. Her breathing got slightly ragged at the sight of his button up shirt hanging halfway open and his cheeks flushed red.

"What the fuck do you want?" She snapped when she was able to speak. Her heart raced in her chest when he walked around the table cockily and sat down next to her. He scooted the chair as close to her as possible and smirked.

"I saw you staring," He whispered in her ear. Trish's breath hitched in her throat. Dancers soon surrounded them, and they were blocked off from their friends.

"Who said I was staring at you," She hissed. Trish put down her margarita but kept looking straight. She knew he was staring at her with the same intensity as always.

"Oh I could tell," His breath was hot on her neck, and made Trish want to melt. Why did he have to bother her like this? Why did he have to tease her?

"Where's your whore?" She spat angrily. Randy raised both of his eyebrows and touched her shoulder. Trish jumped at this.

"Sleeping," He said simply, his hand moving down her arm slowly. She hated how he was affecting her. She didn't want to want him. She hated it more than anything. She was beginning to hate herself for letting him do this.

_What happened to the decision you came to last night? What happened to stopping this whole damn thing? Are you that weak? _A voice inside her head asked her. Trish gasped when his hand moved to her thigh. She grasped her drink so she wouldn't take hold of his face and kiss him like she wanted to. He was so close to her that out of the corner of her eye she could see the small sunburst around his pupil.

Then his hand moved to her inner thigh and Trish almost lost control of all her senses. He blew her mind away when he began to rub tormenting circles on her leg before moving closer to her core. Trish drew in a breath from between her teeth when he pushed his hand lightly against her. Then, as quickly as he had come, he had left. Trish's slitted eyes opened wide and she looked around frantically for him.

_Damn him! _Trish screamed in her thoughts. The dancers had moved, and she saw him with an exotic woman over on the other side of the club with his hand pushing up her skirt. She ground her teeth together and clenched her fists. She hated him even more. The fire burning inside of her was growing into a raging inferno. He was going to pay. She hated being the woman he came to after he fucked a whore. She hated being like a toy that was placed on the shelf when a kid didn't want to play with it. She was the toy, and Randy was the impatient kid.

Trish stormed out of the club, her mind clearing fully when she was outside. She stomped down the streets, her footsteps echoing off the sides of the expensive restaurants and stores. She saw the hotel in the distance and continued to walk. She pushed apart a couple who was kissing and glared back at the chick who was cursing at Trish.

"Fuck you," Trish snarled angrily. The girl got the hint and snuggled up to her boyfriend who watched Trish walk away. Trish reached the hotel, and once in the lobby she stopped. Her arms hung at her sides, sweat running down her forehead from rushing back to the hotel, her feet screaming with pain.

She trudged into the open elevator a minute later and sat down against the wall. Her short denim skirt barely covered her whole thigh, but once she stood she felt more covered; safer.

"Damn Trish, you look horrible," Someone remarked once the elevator doors opened. Trish looked up to find John Cena standing there. He walked in and helped her up to her feet, "Are you drunk?"

"Far from it, buddy," She hissed under her breath. She wrenched from his gentle hold and walked out of the elevator, leaving him there. She didn't want his pity. He probably knew all about the affair she was having with Randy.

Trish moved inside her room and fell onto the bed with a tired sigh. Her insides still jumped at the thought of Randy's hand caressing her thigh. She rolled onto her stomach and stared at the headboard. Her mind flashed with images of her gripping the headboard to steady herself during some of their sexual encounters. She shook her head to wipe the thoughts away.

She got dressed in her pajamas and crawled into bed. No sex tonight. The thought almost made her cringe. She was so used to him coming and fucking her until she was practically dead. She curled up into a ball and stared out onto the balcony. Maybe she needed this night alone to think things through. She listened to cars honk and she was almost put to sleep by the sound of the city.

The peace was disrupted by a banging on her door. She knew who it was. She was hesitant about answering the door. She had forgotten about him for those thirty minutes. Now he was there, standing in front of the door. She opened the door slowly and wasn't surprised the least when he pushed her inside and slammed it closed.

"You left," He mumbled while kissing her neck. Trish's hands were on his chest. Her heart was racing again, but not with excitement. With anger. The inferno had diminished to embers; now it was back in full force. She gave him a hard shove that made him fall into the wall. His icy blue eyes widened.

"Get out," Trish demanded with a point of her finger towards the door. She wasn't surprised when he didn't get it and moved towards her again. She was about to push him again but he had her backed against the wall with his hands gripping her wrists over her head.

"You don't want that," Randy whispered. Trish nodded frantically but he knew better. She still wanted him.

"Damnit get off of me," Trish whimpered. Randy kissed under her chin and down the front of her neck to her collarbone. Trish tried to breathe easily, but his kisses set her on fire. She arched into him and let him kiss her chest though the fabric of her shirt.

"You know you love it," And Randy was right. She did love it. But she had had enough, and she wasn't going to let him continue to push and pull her. She didn't need him for anything but sex, and that wasn't an essential part of her life. She had to get rid of him. That was the only solution.

When she felt his grip loosen on her wrists she slipped her hands through his large hands. Randy thought she'd give in, but he couldn't have been more wrong. He hadn't expected the push that sent him sprawled onto the bed. He smirked, thinking she was just getting ready.

"I don't want you to come to me anymore," Trish raised her chin in defiance. Randy was shocked.

"What do you mean?"

"I hate you more than you'll ever fucking know, and I don't want you to fuck me anymore!" Trish yelled. She didn't care if the whole hotel heard anymore. She was done with this game.

"You're not serious about this," Randy tried to reason. But the strong look in Trish's hazel eyes told him differently.

"I'm as serious as a God damn heart attack," Trish breathed angrily. Randy stood up, his arms crossing across his chest.

"Oh really? Well I have many other whores," He said as they stared each other down.

"If you're calling me a whore then I must be the best one because you're with me every night," Trish sneered. Randy opened his mouth to protest but he shut it. She was definitely right. She was the best.

"Why are you doing this now?" Randy groaned. Trish knew he was horny, and she knew he wanted her, but he had the chance to have her earlier and he didn't take it. Instead he just threw more firewood into the blaze deep inside of her.

"Because I've smartened up and seen that I'm just a toy. A toy you take off the damn shelf every time you get bored with the others," Trish shouted. Randy blinked a few times.

"You're right," He said pathetically, "You are just a toy, and that's all you'll ever be to me," His voice began to waver. She wasn't just a toy to him but he wanted her to believe that.

"Than get the fuck out if I'm just a God damn toy," Trish pointed towards the door with a menacing finger. Randy obeyed her with his head hung slightly in defeat.

"You'll come running back to me," He said as he turned around, "I know you will."

"You keep wishing that, dumbass," Trish pushed him out into the hallway and slammed the door in his face.

Trish's defiant expression changed. She sighed and walked back into the room. She was supposed to feel happy about letting him go. But her heart was being pulled out the door with him. She hated this feeling. Trish clenched her fists and picked up a vase of flowers left on the night stand and threw them at the wall.

"Damn you," She whispered to no one in particular. She was pissed at herself. She didn't mean to get attached. She didn't want to get attached. Why did he have to be so alluring, so handsome?

The blonde slid down the thin wall and sat with her knees slightly bent. She stared at the opposite wall in disgust. She hated herself more than ever. Her heart was being pulled even further with him as he walked further away. She growled angrily at the feeling inside.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Trish grasped her hair in her hands. She rested her forehead on her knees and begged the tears that filled her eyes not to fall. But once she blinked they began to drip on her pajama pants, and they wouldn't stop. She was beyond pissed. These tears showed that she was attached, that she needed him in more ways than just sex.

She rocked back and forth, her jaw clenched so tight her teeth were beginning to hurt. She didn't want to feel this way about him. He was arrogant, cocky, a class A bastard. And yet, she wanted him. Still. After everything he did, after everything she said, she still wanted him.

She began to think that getting rid of him wasn't the only solution.

--

**Note: **Yup, weak. This isn't my favorite chapter. But whatever. You can't like every chapter, right? So, reviews are always appreciated. They boost my confidence, and make me laugh. LOL.

**R**achel


	3. Over and Over

_Between the Sheets_

**Note:** Jared Leto keeps me sane. Seriously, without him I don't know what I'd do when isn't working. If you don't know who Jared Leto is, go watch a 30 Seconds to Mars video, or _Lord of War_. He's one sexy mofo if you ask me! I've got a new obsession with him. LOL. Damnit, I also put in some kind of plug in these notes. Damnit! Anyway, before I go all psycho on you people **thanks for all of the reviews.** They really do mean a lot to me!

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anyone or anything in this story. Now, if I could own something, I'd want to own Jared… -insert devilish grin-

**Chapter Three:** Over and Over

--

"Jesus, Trish, you look horrible," One of her co-workers remarked as she walked towards the divas locker room. She didn't even turn to acknowledge whoever said it. She didn't care who said it.

"Trish Stratus," Someone called from behind her. She growled lowly in her throat. She just wanted to be left alone. With the night she had, she was in a bad mood. Admitting to herself that she wanted Randy for more than sex had wrecked her vibe.

"What?" She hissed. She didn't even turn around.

"Is that how you greet your best friend?" Amy Dumas asked, feigning hurt. Trish rolled her eyes and walked into the divas locker room.

"I'm not in the mood, Amy," She threw her duffel bag into an open locker and fell onto a couch.

"Well why don't you tell me what's wrong," Amy sat across from her on a bench, "Because you've been acting so weird lately."

"I'd rather not talk about it, okay?" Trish snapped quickly. Amy's thin eyebrows rose.

"Well okay then," The redhead stood, "I'll just leave you in peace."

Trish watched her friend go, feeling somewhat bad for acting like a bitch. But she couldn't help the mood she was in. She couldn't help but be angry at herself. The previous night she had kicked someone out of her life, openly admitted to herself that she had feelings for the jerk, and cried because of it.

"Yeah, babe, I'll see you in a few minutes," Someone said from the doorway. Trish looked over with a menacing glare towards Stacy Keibler and none other than Randy Orton. When she looked over Randy had looked passed Stacy and their eyes met.

"Good," Stacy leaned forward to kiss him but Randy's eyes were still on Trish, "Because I can't go a few minutes without seeing you."

"Yeah…" Randy pressed a kiss to Stacy's cheek before disappearing quickly. Trish looked ahead again, Stacy walked into the room and settled onto a couch and pulled off her four inch heels.

"So, Trish," The leggy blonde began. Trish glanced at the "star" with malice.

"Quit the niceties and get to what you're going to say, whore," Trish stood up while staring at the other blonde.

"I was just going to comment on how lovely you've been looking," Stacy looked Trish up and down quickly, "For a hooker, that is." Trish rolled her eyes at this statement.

"Calling people 'hooker's' is juvenile, Stacy," Trish said as she walked over o the locker. She pulled her wrestling attire from her bag angrily.

"I saw how you looked at Randy," Stacy said after a moment's silence. Trish whipped around to look at her.

"And how exactly did I look at him? Hmm?" Trish snapped. Stacy flipped her honey colored hair over her shoulder.

"You want him. But you can't have him, because he's all mine."

Trish wanted to laugh so bad that her throat hurt. She wanted to scream at Stacy that she had already had him but gave him up. She wanted to exclaim to the world that she and Randy had an affair for two months before she ended it all. On the other hand she wanted to curl up and cry herself into depression because of the mistake she made. She hated that she let him go when she _knew_ it would only hurt her in the end.

"I don't want anything to do with that jackass," Trish growled. She peeled her shirt off of her body with such fierceness that it ripped.

"I see how you stare at him, and I know you want to fuck his brains out," Stacy said while approaching Trish, "But too damn bad you can't."

Trish smirked suddenly. Oh how fun it would be to break her heart. But she didn't want to ruin a relationship. She'd done that plenty times before and it always backfired on her. A war was being waged in her mind as she thought the possibilities over.

"How do you know I haven't already?" Trish replied after pulling on her skimpy top she was supposed to wear out to the ring for her match against Candice.

"I'm the only one who's touched him in months," Stacy said confidently, not picking up the hint. Trish let out a frustrated sigh.

"You are so naïve, Stacy. Can't you see he's cheating on you?" Trish began to unbutton her pants when Stacy stepped in front of her.

"He's not! If he was I'd find out!" Stacy shrieked. Trish pushed down her pants and pulled on some skin tight black ones.

"He's probably having an affair with a diva in the locker room," Trish bit down on her lip, "I've heard he likes brunettes." Trish's insides jumped at the thought. He had picked her over Candice, over Melina, over Mickie. She was the only diva he had decided to fuck besides his precious Stacy who couldn't see passed that alluring smile.

"I don't see why he'd have an affair! I'm perfect," Stacy boasted. She thought she was all high and mighty since being on _Dancing with the Stars_ when all she was was a prop Vince used for publicity.

"Yeah, maybe he's fucking someone else because you suck in bed," Trish sneered, "Legs aren't everything." Trish decided to leave the conversation at that and walked to the door. When she swung it open and walked out she immediately bumped into Randy.

_Just my luck, _She thought as she looked up at him. Randy stared down at her with cold eyes. She matched his gaze with an angry glare that made him want to shiver. Her eyes were the window to her emotions. They stood frozen for a second. Trish had no clue what to do. Apologize? No, she wasn't going to say sorry. In her mind, _he _was in _her _way. Not the other way around.

"Excuse you," His icy blue eyes swept over her body. Trish wanted to smack the cocky smirk off of his face. And she would've done it if there weren't superstars lining the hall.

"Get out of my way," Trish spat. Randy was standing in front of her, blocking her way to the gorilla position. He crossed his arms across his chest defiantly.

"Actually, you're in my way," He said smoothly. A low growl escaped from the back of Trish's throat. Randy raised his eyebrows when he heard this.

"How have your nights been, Trish? Lonely?" He questioned teasingly. Trish's gaze wavered as her eyes moved away from his to the set of crates lining one side of the hallway. "I know mine haven't."

"It's none of your damn business what I do when I'm out of this arena," Trish's voice was losing its sharpness. She hated how he affected her. Just _standing _there made her weak. It was pathetic.

"Well before you kicked me out last night it was my business," Randy said ruefully. Trish let out a sardonic laugh.

"I kicked you out because I was through with you! Like I said last night, I'm not a toy!" Trish used her arms to emphasize what she meant. Randy just snickered.

"Yeah, okay," He walked forward and backed her into a wall. Despite hating him with everything she had in her mind, body, and soul; she loved when he did this. His arms blocked her path for escape, and he smirked when he realized she was looking for a way to leave.

"I've fucked four divas once you kicked me out of your room," He whispered. Trish's eyes widened. He was so close; too close.

"And you think I give a shit?" She retorted angrily. Randy leaned down and held his face just inches from hers.

"I'm pretty sure you do," He muttered, "Your eyes give away everything, Stratus." When he said this Trish tore her hazel orbs away from his icy blue ones. She knew it was true – Amy told her that all the time.

"See, you're avoiding my eyes for the second time in five minutes," Randy said when she didn't reply. Trish moved her eyes up his chest then up to his face. Trish regretted ever looking into his eyes again.

"Just leave me alone," Trish's voice wavered yet again. Randy moved closer to her, making her press herself against the wall even more. She didn't want this. She didn't want to fall to her knees and beg him to come back and fuck her again.

"Let me come back," He whispered. Trish furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. His face was so close – his lips centimeters from her own.

"What are you talking about?" Her voice was barely audible. Their gaze never shifted, never faltered.

"I miss… us," His hand moved to her arm then down. Trish shivered.

_He shouldn't be doing this… Please stop. I don't want to be used anymore. _Trish pleaded in her mind. He was risking everything he had with Stacy. She was just across the hall in the women's locker room, cleaning herself up for the bikini contest. Trish was thankful she wasn't going to be in that. With Candice, Ashley, Stacy, Maria, and Torrie, she was sure to win.

"Stacy's across the hall," Trish pushed his hand away, "So back off."

"She's too stupid to see what's going on right in front of her eyes. If she walked out of that locker room she'd think I was threatening you," Randy replied. Trish shook her head.

"I told her you're cheating," Her voice was getting stronger. She took in a deep breath and placed her hands on his chest to push him away.

"I honestly don't care about that anymore. I'd fuck you right here, right now if you weren't so damn conservative in public." Randy hissed. Trish took in a sharp breath. Why was he doing this?

"Go find Candice or Ashley or someone," She said after she sighed. Randy only moved closer.

"I don't want them," He whispered in her ear. Their bodies were almost touching, and the heat radiating off his body was so strong that it almost made her give in.

She couldn't think of anything to say, so she just stared up at him. Her eyes were showing how weak he was making her, she knew it. A smirk played at the corner of his mouth. He knew she was extremely close to giving into him, and he loved every minute of it.

"Please let me go," Trish muttered. They both heard the women's locker room door opening which made Randy step back from Trish and lean against the other wall.

For once in her career she was thankful to see Stacy coming out in her beach towel. Randy didn't even acknowledge Stacy's appearance. He was too busy glancing at Trish out of the corner of his eye. Trish walked away quickly and rounded the corner, but not before looking back. Stacy was digging through her bag, and Randy was leaning against the wall looking way too perfect; watching Trish.

Their eyes met for a brief second before Stacy got his attention. Trish didn't like the look he was giving her. She knew what it meant, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep him away for much longer. She was pissed at herself again.

"Trish, you have to get to the gorilla now," Paul Levesque said from behind her. She looked over at him, gave him a thankful smile, and began to walk again.

She sat down on a bunch of stacked crates at the gorilla and rested her head in the palm of her hands. She couldn't believe what he was doing again. Randy was known for his flirtatious ways, but Trish couldn't help but feel that he wasn't joking.

_Why does he want me anyway? I'm just another one of his many whores. It's not like he can't go out into the middle of the street, say he's horny, and get twenty girls climbing all over him. _Trish thought.

She thought back to the hallway and sighed loudly. She wanted so badly to kiss him. Then again, she wanted to slap him for ever getting her involved with him. She couldn't help herself, though. He was definitely handsome.

Hearing that Victoria's music was playing she hopped down off the crates. After the music faded and hers hit, she took in a controlled breath and stepped out into the flashing lights of cameras and fans cheering. The only thoughts in her head now were to beat Victoria and give the fans a good match. She knew, of course, that in the back of her mind throughout the whole night that what Randy had said would bug her and she was nervous that she may give in again.

--

**Note:** Okay, so I didn't like this chapter either. Dunno why, it's just me. So… I don't know the next time I'll update. Hopefully soon! LOL. But I'm kinda pissed off at Randy so who knows when I'll be able to update this one. Hmmm… That dumb ass mofo... Anyway, yeah, reviews are appreciated!

**Rachel**


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